Глава 12

We will reach a conclusion, Damazti.

Curtains.

Of course, obviously, this doesn't quite match up with what remnant memories I have, but I can't blame you. The wind scours all too many traces.

It was here I built people's houses. Newfangled wonders like nomadic cities weren't yet to be, and the houses built of stones ultimately vanished into thin air within the sandstorms.

Built, then destroyed, built, then destroyed...

Most might tire after facing such a cycle, but in it, I was happy.

You likened this to civilization. This is the 'renewal' you so enjoy?

No, not enjoy.

That was a sloppy metaphor, no more. Ultimately, there is a construction to every civilization, and an ending.

And yet I possess neither, though I so yearn to.

You aren't a stone. You're sand.

...Sand.

Yes, Banshee. I am sand.

Unable to be constructed. Its very own end.

A state you're not content with.

I once became as a lord ameer's countenance, and met the King of Kings of that era. He proclaimed himself 'The Shah of Past and Future,' that all answers to all creation lay in his golden trove of treasures.

I asked him: Your Majesty, what meaning is there to all we surround ourselves with? Where will you lead us?

He lifted his head high, and proclaimed to me: My very thought is Meaning.

Such was his arrogance, his egotism, that basking in the light of the afternoon sun, he believed himself Civilization's ruler.

But all I could see was that, comically, he'd trodden on a corner of his own cloak.

I was bored. And so I departed the place.

I'm very struck by the dukes' methods.

Our squad's not a small one... but you infiltrated like you were walking into your own backyard.

Those quick grapples of yours, and the mini illusion Units... No wonder you got your own Londinium intelligence network established under Sarkaz control this strict.

You're free enough you can move between Londinium and this disused plate however you want.

Victoria's the most formidable nation in these lands, and the Duke I'm loyal to is Victoria's worthiest of note.

It's only natural we'd have our whole gallery of Arts tricks readied.

Hope you don't turn them on us.

The Duke of Caster treats her friends very dearly.

The airship's hidden somewhere on this plate. By our estimates, there should be an underground dock here.

Nothing more concrete?

We'll leave it up to you.

You've got a little time before old Wellington and General Nachzehrer start testing each other's strength, but a little's all you've got.

I'm trusting you all to wrap this up in a satisfactory way. For me.

And don't forget. This is a trade, Your Royal Highness Alexandrina, and you, Doctor of Rhodes Island.